


The Problem with Kissing Hunter

by DestielDestiny



Series: The Students of Regent High [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Teen Romance, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:13:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielDestiny/pseuds/DestielDestiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunter and Robert are not gay, even if they did grind a little.  While naked. And soaking wet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Problem with Kissing Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Students of Regent High series, but can be standalone. Not beta'd, so please point out any major errors. Thanks and enjoy!

Kissing Hunter was like pulling one of those really soft blankets around you when it's below zero outside. It was the feeling of safety and comfort and just a little bit of goofy all at once.  
The problem with kissing Hunter was that it was addicting. After you did it once, you could think of nothing but doing it again. You begin to crave it like you've never craved anything before; the touch of his lips on yours, the feel of his hands creeping along your spine and entangling themselves in your hair, all of it.  
The problem with kissing Hunter is that he makes you feel like it's the only kind of kiss you'll ever get, and afterwards, it's the only kiss you'll ever want.  
Honestly?  
Everything was fine until that day on the bus.  
We were okay friends, I suppose; we goofed off together during practice, and got in trouble together a good chunk of the time, but Hunter was a junior, and I was a lowly sophomore.  
Hunter liked to tackle me. He did so at seemingly random times, and then would hold me down at an awkward angle until I begged for mercy. (My going time is seven minutes.)  
That day on the bus, he'd pinned me to the bus seat. The buckle was digging uncomfortably into my neck, and the other guys on the bus were exceptionally loud. It wouldn't be that way on the way back to school, seeing as most of the soccer team didn't ride the bus back.  
A few of the girls towards the front of the bus had turned in their seats to ogle as they did quite regularly. It was what they did, a certain trademark to begin practice.  
Hunter was laughing like he always did, at least until one of the girls made a comment along the lines of "from smacking to smooching in the blink of an eye."  
A comment which was already weird enough without becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. Seeing as that's exactly what Hunter did.  
"Smooch" me, I mean.  
Also, very weird.  
Weird, but oh so nice.  
It was something I'd wanted to do since I met him. He had one of those faces that could make anybody follow him senselessly. I wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed by one of those people, and I was right to be wishful because it's amazing. Every neuron in your brain fires at once. You can feel his touch on an atomic level and he kind of melts into you, letting you mold him however you like.  
It took me a moment too long to realize that the only reason he was thrown into me like that was because the bus had screeched to a sudden stop. It took me only a moment after that to become conscious of the fact that Hunter had yet to pull away.  
At least until he did. And let me say, when he wants to, he can make a scene.  
"I'm not gay," he said quickly, probably reacting in real time as to what the holy hell was going on.  
"Neither am I," I responded, as fast if not faster than he did.  
"Oh, yes, you are, Robert. Don't lie!" One of the girls shouted. I didn't know her name, she was one of the juniors, but she was the same one that made the comment.  
I paused, staring up at Hunter who still had me pinned down.  
I noticed three things all at once: the first being that he was straddling my legs pretty tightly for a guy who insists he's not gay, the second being that our coach had just witnessed the entire thing (which would make for a hella awkward practice), and the third was that the entire bus had commenced staring at us.  
We could not have been more obvious.  
Hunter pried himself from me before sitting back in his own seat, blushing and with his knees to his chest. I did nothing, and didn't move from my spot on the seat until the bus reached our practice field.  
During practice, I didn't say a word. It was extremely awkward, but there was nothing to be done. Every time one of the girls would be doing drills near us, they'd giggle in Hunter's direction. I found myself almost feeling bad for him, something I rarely feel.  
I had to admit that if either of us gave off the impression of being gay, it would be me. Even then, I don't seem gay at all, but I suppose him less so than me.  
My feeling of sympathy disappeared when, on the bus ride home, he did it again. Much longer than the first, and much more intentional, this kiss seemed to mean something.  
Hunter's hands were everywhere all at once, then came to a pause near the nape of my neck. His fingers wove their way through the knotted hair there like a needle through fabric and it felt right. We started across the aisle from each other, but ended up crammed into the same seat by the window. It was so weird and unusual. It was a kiss like I'd never had before.  
This was the first time I realized the problem with kissing Hunter. 

 

The girls' team looked at me with accusatory eyes from that day forth. It was like they thought they knew something I didn't or like they'd been told I committed a fantastical crime.  
I guess in a way I had. I wasn't supposed to turn out this way. I was expected to bring a girlfriend to all my soccer games, not pass to my boyfriend on the field.  
But I'm getting ahead of myself.  
Hunter ignored me for a few days after that. He refused to pass to me, and if I passed to him, he wouldn't touch it. Hunter had this way of making you feel like shit that way. I'd watched him do it to other teammates or the girls when they played with us, but being on the receiving end wasn't fun.  
It was on the fifth day of being ignored that he talked to me again, and he said something that I did not want to hear, nor did I respond to.  
"So we should probably talk about that kiss thing, huh?"  
I was a guy. I am a guy. Guys don't talk about their feelings. That's the girl thing.  
I only shook my head and replaced my earbuds.  
The real problem with kissing Hunter was letting go, accepting that it was not going to happen again.  
But the real problem with me was that I didn't want to let go. I really did want it to happen again. 

 

It took a long time for us to get back to normal after that. Hunter went back to pinning me to the ground or the goal post or whatever struck his fancy that day, and I went back to trying not to scream "Mercy!" whenever he did so.  
And thus, normality returned to the boys' team.  
Up until the exact moment Hunter shouted, "Jesus! I can't take it anymore!" and punched me in the stomach. Which, by the way, hurt a lot.  
That was not normal. In fact, it was anything but.  
I found that the girls' team was a lot more accepting of my complicated mess than the boys were and they were nice about getting me ice when I asked for it, as I'd been punched several times after that point.  
But overall, the true breaking point would have to be Kai coming out. The team was in chaos, but he came out to his English class first, then slowly the rest of the school. He told most of us last because he didn't trust us or something, but a few of the guys in his classes knew before the rest of us.  
Most of us were fine with it. Hell, who cares if Kai's gay?  
Some of us were less fine with it.  
Next time I saw Kai, he had a black eye and was limping something fierce.

 

The third time I was kissed by Hunter was in the locker room showers. It was after practice and most of the team had already trickled out of the locker rooms and were on their merry way home. I, on the other hand, didn't like to rush my showers and seeing as how I had no homework that night, I didn't have anything to worry about.  
We were the only two left to shower, and I was dragging it out as long as possible. Maybe if I waited two more minutes, he'd be out of the shower.  
But Hunter didn't come out of the shower in two minutes, and he didn't come out two minutes after that, either. I found myself going into the showers anyway, then suddenly getting an unwanted (though not unappreciated) glimpse of his abs. Otherwise, I didn't even look in his direction because if I looked, who knew what I would find?  
I had turned around to face the wall, restraining myself from looking in his direction at all, but then I felt a body press against my back, so I had to turn around.  
It was him, completely naked, and dripping wet.  
It started slow and steady against my neck; an enduring kiss that's meant to stay only a kiss.  
Then he moved to my lips, this time more passionate. I could feel how much this was not intended to stay a kiss as it was very obvious.  
Hunter pushed me up against the tile wall as his eyes went glassy.  
I could taste his confidence in a way that felt completely different.  
This time, when he stopped, I found myself pleading with him: "Don't stop!"  
I found that it was so easy to be buried in your love of the feeling that anything you felt for Hunter is covered up and forgotten.  
The wet and sticky feeling made everything a hundred times better, but when he stopped, everything flew into the steamy air and disappeared into the atmosphere.  
Hunter's grin was wide and sly. "It's so easy to make you beg, Rob."  
I stared at a point above his head like it was the most interesting thing in the world. This could get very awkward, very fast.  
"Don't be like that," he said, giving me a playful smack on the arm. "Your face'll get stuck that way."  
I stayed frozen to the spot. I would not play his little game.  
"Rob," he repeated, "what'll it take?"  
The problem with kissing Hunter was that as much as you want it to mean something, it never does, and you're left wondering what you did wrong. The problem with kissing Hunter is that he can kiss everybody like that and not bat an eye.  
"It'll take you be fucking serious about something for once." I answered him, then I left the shower, shampoo still present in my sopping wet hair, and got dressed.  
Hunter either wasn't at practice the following day, or I didn't care enough to see him. It was the same way the day after that, and the day after that. He either wasn't there, or I had become blind to his existence. 

 

I continued to not see him until the day when he appeared quite suddenly in front of me as I made the lengthy journey between my last class before lunch and my locker.  
"Come on," he said, "I want to take you somewhere."  
"Somewhere" was the football team's crappy practice field out back of the school. There wasn't many other people out there, seeing as it was pizza day in the cafeteria.  
"Why are we here?" I asked him before setting my backpack on the ground and sprawling on the artificial turf.  
"I'm being serious about something for once." He replied, and say down next to me.  
"Serious about what?"  
The clouds moved swiftly across the sky as I watched. It was almost mystical how the seemed to all move in different directions. They were all the same dark and gloomy colour grey. There'd be rain soon, I just knew it.  
"I'm serious about you."  
I snorted. "That's likely. You're not even gay."  
"Neither are you." Hunter turned on his side, looking me over carefully from that angle.  
"So we're two totally not gay guys that are what? Going out? Making out in the locker room? What exactly is going on?"  
"Taking the girl approach now, are we?"  
"I just want a straight answer, okay?"  
"I get it." Hunter sat up and stuck his legs out in front of him. "What do you want to be?"  
"I don't like what we've got going now, that's for damn sure. I mean, I like it, I just can't live with it much longer."  
The problem with kissing Hunter is that it never prepares you for what he's going to say next. It makes you think you can taste in on his tongue, in the smile on his lips, but you can't. Nothing can prepare you for when Hunter opens his mouth in any way but a joking manner.  
"What do you say we go out once or twice? See how it goes. Then we can have this conversation again."

 

A year and a half later, we were still going out, and neither of us were quite sure if we considered ourselves dating or not.  
Hunter took some girl to Junior Prom, but as his Senior Prom was approaching rapidly, he decided to reevaluate the thing we had going on.  
So we met on the football field like we had every day.  
"Time flies, don't it?" Hunter mumbled as he looked out across the freshly relayed field. The turf was good now, most teams practiced on it. The soccer team didn't have to take a half an hour bus ride every day for practice anymore.  
I nodded. "I can't believe you're a senior."  
"It's some major street cred to be going out with me, isn't it.”  
"Nah. Nobody likes you, chump."  
He laughed in that deep throaty way he had. "I have Prom coming up soon."  
"I heard. It's not like it's been all over the school or anything."  
"I was just wondering if you'd want to go with me."  
I stopped smiling. If this meant what I thought it meant... "Isn't that position usually reserved for your girlfriend?"  
"This is me officially requesting you to be my girlfriend-uh, boyfriend."  
I laughed. "Still straight huh?"  
"Yeah, you?"  
"I think so. Sure I'll be your, 'uh boyfriend.' I don't have anybody knocking down my door."  
"It was one time!" He shouted, but was laughing as hard as I was. "I was drunk! It's not my fault."  
"Like hell it isn’t, my parents made me pay for a new door."  
He moved closer to me, and everything kind of slowed to a stop. It was gradual at first, and then hit me like an eighteen wheeler. We were only separated by a cushion of molecules at this point and he smelled like cologne and his weird ass shampoo.  
Hunter threw his arm over my shoulder in a comradely way, until it turned into him pulling me by my head and neck to him. I was suddenly swept into a deep, passionate kiss.  
Because that's the way it was with kissing Hunter, everything was sudden and deep and sincere. Just the feeling of hands-his hands-draped around me was amazing. He was intoxicating, but that's the way it had always been.  
My little sister's favorite song came floating in and out of my head.  
Oh, baby drunk in love…  
Because it was really just that line that made sense to me, right then and there. I knew how somebody could be drunk in love, whether the person meant actually drunk or figuratively drunk is another mystery.  
But Hunter always did kiss me until I was drunk in love, and that was alright with me. 

 

The problem with kissing Hunter is that it has to end. No kiss can go on forever, and neither can he.  
The problem with kissing Hunter is that he leaves your heart in a million tiny pieces on the floor in front of you.  
The problem with kissing Hunter is that he always does the breaking up when you don't expect it, and it hurts like a son of a bitch.  
Just when it was all looking up: Prom was that Saturday, we were going to a movie that night, he walked up to me between classes and told me we were done.  
That was all. "We're done."  
After nearly two years, that's all I got.  
He didn't cry. In fact, he didn't show any kind of emotion, no acknowledgment that we were ever actually together.  
Kai, who was walking beside me, patted me on the shoulder in what I figured was a strange attempt to comfort me.  
"Who are you going to Prom with, then?" He asked.  
"Nobody, I suppose." I pulled my backpack tighter against my back.  
"You could come with me," Kai offered.  
So I smiled, as that's what one would do in such situations as this, "Sounds good, Kai."  
Even though it didn't sound good at all. It sounded like torment, torture, agony.  
I was not gay, but Kai was.  
Hunter wasn't gay, either, but I always figured that was a bit of a show. 

Then, all at once, I realized four things:  
1) I did not want to go to Prom with Kai, no matter how amazing a friend he was.  
2)I was not going to let everything end so easily.  
3) Kai had some of the best puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen.  
And 4) I was in love with Hunter. Hopelessly, irreversibly in love. 

 

I went to Prom anyway, but by some trick of luck, Kai got sick.  
So I went alone, who gives a rip?  
I had fun anyway. I even danced with a few girls, but I had no interest in any of them. I only wanted Hunter, who didn't even acknowledge me anymore.  
I waited for a call from him until I saw him with his new girlfriend outside of school one day eating face, then I gave up. 

 

One day in late May, Hunter went missing. It was a Friday, and everybody was confused as to where he'd gone. He'd disappeared without a trace, even his parents didn't know.  
I walked around in a sort of daze after it donned on me that nobody knew. Hunter, my Hunter, had gone missing.  
But then I had to remind myself that he wasn't mine anymore. He was his girlfriend's.  
I fought my instinct to call him, which at the time I thought was probably for the best.  
I went home, I put off my homework. I did everything I usually did, but then something weird happened: my phone started ringing somewhere around midnight.  
It was late, and I was tired, so I didn't recognize his voice right away.  
"Come get me, please." The voice on the other end begged.  
"Who—Hunter?" I slurred groggily.  
"I'm somewhere near Seaside. Come pick me up, Rob." Hunter pleaded.  
"Ask your girlfriend."  
"I'm asking you."  
The problem with kissing Hunter is that you're hooked, and now he can have you do whatever he goddamn pleases, abuse you into oblivion, and you'll do it.

 

"You're a real jackass, you know that?" I said as he got in my car.  
"I know." He replied sadly.  
"What the hell were you thinking? How the hell did you even get out here?"  
"I don't know. Rob, I'm sorry."  
I gave him a long stare and shook my head. "Being in love with you sucks."  
"Being in—“he choked on the words. "Being in love with me?"  
"That's what this is. The stupidity I feel right now, but the fact that I came for you anyway, even though I knew it would do nothing but get me in trouble with me parents and keep me up long past normal sleeping hours. Despite you having an actual girlfriend, who you just got rid of me for, to abuse the same way you’re doing to me right now."  
"You're in love with me?"  
"I suppose." I said. “But I wish I wasn’t.”  
"But you're not gay."  
"Neither are you."  
"Does that mean I can be in love with you, too?"  
"Are you?"  
"You were the first thing I was serious about." He placed his hand on my knee and I nearly drove off the road.  
"Jesus," I hissed.  
"I let you go because I was scared."  
"I won't let you let me go next time."  
"There won't be a next time."

The best part of kissing Hunter is when it doesn't have to end. 

When I can feel his hands on me for the immediate future and not worry about having to be separated from him. 

The best part of kissing Hunter is how he makes you feel like it's the only kiss you're ever going to get. 

The best part of kissing Hunter is that it was addicting and he was a million times better than drugs. 

The best part of kissing Hunter is Hunter.


End file.
